The Lost Girl of Astor Street(78)
And yet, I also find myself wanting to wrap my arms around him and sob against his chest while he reassures me. While he explains all the reasons why his professional choices have been about upholding the safety of our society rather than helping organized crime prosper.
“You’ll be the lady of the house while I’m away, but I expect you to take some time off. Go to the beach. Go to the movies.” Father winks. “Let Mariano spoil you a bit.”
The suggestion stirs the anger brewing in my gut. Is my father in this so deep that he doesn’t mind who Mariano is? “Do you really think he’s the best guy for me to be seeing?”
Father blinks several times. “I thought you liked him.”
“I do. I did. But . . . that was before I realized who his family is.”
Father tucks his hands in his pockets and watches me without speaking. Lawyer trickery.
Lawyer trickery that I can’t help succumbing to. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Father inhales slowly, and then exhales even slower. “Mariano is a good kid. He’s not . . . in the family business.”
I press my eyes closed as a strange mix of relief and confusion rumbles through me. “But don’t you think that detail would’ve been pertinent?”
“These last few weeks have been the worst of your life, Piper. I guess I didn’t want to do anything that might take away the one person who seemed to be making you happy.” Father pitches his voice even lower. “I’ve known his father and uncle a long time. And Mariano is on the right side of the law. I knew you weren’t in any danger.”
“No danger.” I huff a humorless laugh. “It’s just the Sicilian mafia. That’s all.”
“Unless you have some bootleg operation I don’t know about, you’re perfectly safe.” His smile is thin.
“Are you making a joke? Right now?”
Father sighs and looks out the window, at the snarl of shopping traffic on Michigan Avenue. “What should I have done? Banned you from seeing Mariano because of his father and uncle’s business?”
“At the very least, how about some honesty? About Mariano, about you.”
“About me? How have I been dishonest about me?”
“Your line of work.”
Father seems exasperated. “Piper, you’ve known for a long time what kind of work I do. That was no secret.”
“But I didn’t know . . .” I didn’t know what? “I didn’t know you were defending . . . criminals.”
Yep. That sounds exactly as stupid out of my mouth as it did in my head.
“That sounds dumb, I know. But I guess I always imagined that you spent your days defending people who were wrongly accused or didn’t do anything that bad.”
Father again averts his face to the traffic below, and pulls in his lower lip. I expect him to call me on this inconsistency—even to Mariano, I had said that I thought some of Father’s clients were mobsters. The truth is that I had chosen to not think too deeply on it. I had chosen to stay ignorant.
“I’m sorry to be a disappointment. With the boys, their interest in law made it a natural subject to eventually talk about. With you, though . . .” Father turns his gaze to meet mine. “I suppose I wanted you to keep viewing me that way. I never lied, but I certainly omitted.”
That’s much more of an apology than I thought I would get. “Did Mother know?”
He hesitates for a beat. “My involvement wasn’t as extensive when she was alive.”
I blow a loose raspberry. “You’re being evasive. Did she know, or didn’t she?”
“She knew.”
“And what did she think?”
Father holds my gaze. “She worried for the safety of our family.”
I see him in my memory—his chair angled toward the front door the night Lydia was taken. The gun within reach. “You do too.”
“Of course I do. But I would no matter what my job was. It’s part of being a parent.”
“When Lydia went missing . . . what did you think had happened?”
Father blinks at me a few times. “I don’t understand your line of thought.”
“I told you that I came downstairs that night to get a drink. You were asleep in your chair. With your gun.”
Father pulls his lip in again. I wonder if he knows he does that when he’s crafting an answer.
“Did you think I was at risk?” I press him.
“Of course I did. Because I’m a father, though. Not because of my job.”
I think back to what Mariano had told me about Father’s case, and Colin Finnegan winding up in jail. “It had nothing to do with a big case you’d won?”
“I won’t pretend that it never occurred to me that you or one of your brothers might be in danger because I had angered people—”
“The Finnegan brothers.”
Father tries to shove away his surprise, but I see it before he can tuck it away. “Yes. They had certainly crossed my mind. But, obviously, I was being paranoid.”
All roads in Lydia’s disappearance seem to lead to the Finnegans. Is it merely proof of how far-reaching they’ve grown to be in this city? Or is it something more?
Father glances at his wristwatch. “I don’t have long before our scheduled departure.” He settles his hands on my shoulders, and waits to speak until I’m looking him in the eyes. “When I get home, I give you my word that we will sit and talk about this to your heart’s content. I will be as open as I can without violating my clients’ privileges. But for now, I just want you to know that I’m sorry you were caught off guard today, and I’m sorry for my part in that.”